


May He Never Know

by GreyPigeon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Mutual Attraction, One-Sided Love, Pining, Romance, forbidden relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPigeon/pseuds/GreyPigeon
Summary: Legolas is reminiscing about one night of sweet abandon. Regardless of who they were and what duties they held at the time, Legolas and Elrond had chosen to trust each other once, succumbing to the feeling of bittersweet freedom, found in a forbidden tryst.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	May He Never Know

**Author's Note:**

> Browsing through my oldest fics from the realm of some 9 years ago, I found this single one that is worth saving. I remember my younger self had felt quite accomplished about it, and upon closer inspection it is indeed a decent piece of romance, if maybe a bit naive at times. It had been written as a birthday gift to one of my closest friends, whom I met through LOTR fandom, Geale. The support, the advice and the shared fun when writing were the very things that made me learn English properly. We remain good friends to this very day. You can read her works under this link:  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1554096/Geale
> 
> If anybody happens to know this from FF.net, I hurry with an explanation that the story has been edited for the sake of grammar and stylistic reasons and mildly improved in terms of characterization. The plot remains the same. 
> 
> Please mind the tags. If any of the abovementioned tags trouble or offend you, please leave.
> 
> NOTE ON TIMELINE: A convenient “sometime’ before The Quest ;) Legolas is very young, growing through the course of the plot into adolescence and young adulthood. Also, I allowed myself to omit the intricacies of the Elvish calendar in this short fic.
> 
> Enjoy. *Bows*

**~*~**

Try to imagine: that night was just like this one.

It was summer, so the precious warmth enveloping the earth gave generously to both plant and animal alike. Thick veil of humidity had spread out amidst the mighty trees of my homeland wood, and the air was heavy with upcoming thunderstorm, promising to wash over flesh and grass, wet the horses’ manes, cleanse tired thoughts, bring forth the most refreshing scent of damp bark and revive the gracious wind, which would toss your hair and fling with the wide sleeves of your tunic.

I had been leading a fierce battle with my thoughts that night. As I yielded finally, heading to the door of his bedchamber, the first raindrops had started to fall. I felt united with the dark sky above, reflecting my inner turmoil so well. 

Try to understand, my friend. 

I had only seen him a few times in my life. Even today - still just a young Elf - compared to him, I am like a slender sapling near a mighty _mallorn_ tree. I think it was this might and this beauty in him that had captured me. So proud and powerful, and yet so different from my own Father. 

His coal black hair and strict face stood in sharp contrast to my _Ada’s_ smile and his bright golden mane, so much like my own. Each time he had been dressed in rich robes, holding himself strictly upright, his eyes resting upon the one who spoke to him in a vigilant and demanding manner. I had noticed that many would prefer not to look him in the eye, so tough and so brave his glare was. Given that I was a child, he seemed not only dignified, but slightly scary. 

Maybe it was just because I had never seen him cradle his son and sing to him quietly, like my _Adar_ used to sing to me and my brothers.

Our first meeting had left me overawed.

I hid from his eyes before they could reach me, purposely standing behind the wide stone pillar in my Father’s Throne Hall. Using the opportunity, I stared unkindly; no one would pay attention to the elfling I was, for no one would suspect that from all of the delightful places in the woods, eerie clearings and streams or the royal stables full of my favorite pastimes I would choose to be in a Throne Hall, eavesdropping about the important guests of Imladris. 

My political education had still been a matter of small importance, I was just too small to understand, and it was really impossible to predict what would ever become of me. All I had wanted to do at the time had been to run through the woods with my first bow, fast like the wind, fleeting like an apparition, while my older brothers had been much more responsible and highly interested in _Ada’s_ kingship. I observed with unbridled jealousy as the two were introduced to the Lord of Imladris, I heard my Father’s favorable tone and I was burning red.

The great Lord’s acknowledgement of my brothers was very polite; he laid his hands on top of their blond heads and said something that must have been endearments, for they both squirmed like rewarded kittens and were talking about this event for days afterwards. 

All I was given was his name. A name I could match to this outstanding person which began to occupy my thoughts ever since that day. 

Lord Elrond the Peredhel of Imladris.

I met him again, much much later. It was when he lost his wife. 

I was surprised, and not pleasantly; he was even more uptight than I had remembered, thinner, quieter. His skin grayish. His robes dark. His fingers slightly shaking. His stroll short and devoid of usual briskness. Pale _mithril_ on his brow heavy and disturbing, glowing silently in darkness he had been immersed in. We had left Imladris quickly, after paying our respects and tending to the absolutely necessary arrangements. 

I listened to what the royals were saying. I tried to imagine and comprehend what had happened to this imposing, glowing Elrond I remembered. His eyes were like dead pools of misery, while my brothers had spoken of sparks of delight in them, warm hands which touched them in a blessing and a merry comparison to his own twin sons. I wanted to know what had happened, I was so purely… sorry for him. 

And slightly disappointed, in a way. 

Some time after that meeting we had traveled to Lothlorien. I was enchanted by the Golden Wood and paid absolutely no heed to the army locations, upcoming harvests, current Greenwood foreign policy and important news from other realms. I happily joined the patrols of the Marchwardens, who were glad of my company; they pampered me with their stories, legends, names of unknown weapons, little sparring matches. They showed me safe ways of crossing their forest, secret traps laid for the unprepared intruders, art of climbing the trees and using the unassuming branches for a quick run, clever ideas of hiding or tricking your opponent from above. I couldn’t have been happier than with them; I treasured those hours with them as if they were stolen from my normal life and roamed the ethereal, golden woods, where everything seemed so big, so pure, so unreal, as if I had strolled into a dream. 

Then, close to midnight, I realized it would probably be prudent to come back. I already knew _Ada_ would be very angry with me, but that had seemed almost a routine and didn’t bother me that much. If someone missed me very dearly, he would have sent for me and forced me to behave. Since nothing like such happened – I quietly came back to the royal _talan_ we had been lodged in, sneaking through the quiet of the night, swift like an ermine. 

Preoccupied and overwhelmed with everything I had laid my eyes upon, I never even saw the Imladris delegation, so I had no idea that Lord Elrond was there also. I ran into him by accident.

He stood in the narrow corridor, entwining itself around the huge _mallorn_ trunk like a spiral. Fates had deemed it so that it was that exact corridor which would have led me to the _talan_ where I was supposed to lay for a sleep with the rest of my family. Not paying it much thought, I hid behind the wooden balustrade, carved into hundreds of birch leaves; I recognized the Lord and could not find enough courage to simply pass him by. 

He was leaning on the window sill, staring at the sight of Caras Galadhon. He listened with his eyes closed to the choir of Elven voices, a wistful song floating around in a fluid caress of a sound. Lothlorien was always full of singing in the evenings, and that night had been no exception. 

I glared at him.

He was lost in thought. Totally unlike what I would imagine, with a soft and somehow resigned gesture he slid to the sitting position. He let his head fall back to support itself on a polished, arched window frame; his neck was revealed, it shone in pale moonlight with a sharp sculpture of his chiseled throat. His hands – wide, big, mighty hands – they rested on his lap defenselessly palms up, like fallen nests. His brow furrowed for a moment, only to relax again. He was… vulnerable in this exposure.

His lips parted. Even if he didn’t say a word, they moved, following every delicate word of the silvery song in breathless elegance. I wished him to open his eyes, his beautiful, grey eyes, and at the same time I wished that he wouldn’t, for he would notice me; I prayed that he only stayed like this a while longer, allowing me to look at him, feast on the sight of him. 

That time, I think, I made the decision. It was done long before one rainy night led me to his door.

I had to listen to him speaking. I had to hear his voice. I had to observe closer how he acts. What he likes and dislikes. How he walks. What he chooses for himself to eat when the table is fully served. How he brushes his hair out of his eyes. I had to know more.

I observed him secretly. I had very little time, for _Ada_ decided to leave in two days; I had to use all this scarce amount of time, every single moment. I refused to roam the forest - to the Marchwardens’ sincere disappointment - opting for observing the council instead. I followed Elrond after it, I heard him talk with his inferiors and his advisors, not only with royals. I observed his paternal exchange with his young sons. I found out how he handles his hair. I learned all of his sighs, so often uttered, by heart, committing them to memory. I fell for the way he moved, gracefully, slower than he had used to, but indescribably smoothly, brushing the floor with his long, heavy velvet robes. 

I paid close attention to not allow him to catch me with _Ada_ , suddenly terrified that he would embarrass me, like he had a habit of. I could almost hear him speak: this, Lord Elrond, is my youngest son, still just a sapling. Playing with his bow and arrow, running around grimy like the children of Man. He has no mind for politics and frets more about the disappearing snow in Spring than takes interest in actual Greenwood maneuvers…

In that moment I understood that would only be the truth. I really was no partner for a conversation. And I knew so little. I was still just a child, even if I started to feel first sparks of fire in my loins.

Back at home I continued my research. I read every line in Greenwood’s library which told about the Lord of Imladris; I suddenly became interested in council meetings, asking Father for permission to listen to them sometimes. He allowed me with a strange, yet probably pleased expression.

I held little love for books at the time, for they were always only descriptive; books couldn’t make you touch the grass or feel the rain on your face. Yet they held wisdom I couldn’t find in the forest, so I learned to appreciate them very quickly. I figured out history would be something Elrond holds in high esteem, so I started revising. Literature came next and I have to admit it was more pleasant; yet I liked poetry the most. I couldn’t force myself into every tome, though. 

Each time I pulled a bow, rode a horse, exercised or ran through the forest I pictured how it would change and develop my young body. Each time I sparred or fought, I tried to be as graceful and lethal as possible, if only to be an inch closer to the ideal the Lord must have been himself. Elrond, who had fought in great past battles, had led the army to war which would save or condemn Arda.

At night I imagined it was his wide hand sliding down my chest instead of my own, I yearned for his wise lips on mine. I trashed in the bedsheets fruitlessly, feeling empty and raw, anxious like an unused plot of land, full of fertile, black soil; maybe he still waited? Maybe it could be possible that someone else could make him happy yet again, rewarding him for leading a life full of compassion and sacrifice? Maybe I could serve him, maybe I would gladden him, maybe something could grow on this ground…? 

Can one fall in love from the first sight…? Is it possible, at all? Isn’t it folly?

It surely was, my friend. I had been insightful enough to realize that I wanted him. But reality was, he had never seen me and he knew absolutely nothing about my existence.

After that last time in the woods of Lorien, I had no opportunity to see him again. My Father had closed the far wood from me, keeping me inside his palace and assigning new duties, more suitable for a Prince of Greenwood. The only news I heard were contained in occasional letters, polite answers and treaty negotiations; there were some far away gossips from the envoys, messengers or rangers. I carved each and any piece of knowledge about Elrond into memory with pious diligence, as if these were legends of yore; the less frequent they were, the more gloomy I was becoming.

I… never expected such loneliness. Never spared a thought for the size of my commitment and the pain it brought.

Please, try not to reject this folly of mine. 

And then, all of a sudden, news about his coming with the next delegation arrived and my world stirred to life again.

**~*~**

Nervously standing in front of the door, I was still hesitating. I straightened the simple outfit of a servant, borrowed for today from the laundry room, and once again rehearsed what to say and how to behave. This little gambit might have been my undoing, for a prince that I was, I had very little training in serving others. Suddenly I realized it was a vital point in royal education which shouldn’t have been that easily avoided. 

_Holy Valar, What am I doing…?_ A thought ran through my head. _I may be ruining everything… If he gets mad, if he orders me to walk out…_

Such musings only brought white-hot pain ripping my heart out. I closed my eyes once more, trying to find reason. But my heart had chosen already, I knew I had to go inside, that I had come too far already… And I would regret cowardice till the end of my long, lonely life. 

I knocked. A silent, deep voice called for me to enter.

“Good evening, my Lord,” I said, bowing. “I was ordered to bring you some refreshments.” I offered the well rehearsed line, carefully balancing the tray with one hand. 

I closed the wooden door and approached on somewhat wobbly legs. Putting the tray on the table, I dared to cast a glance on the book in his hands; it was bound in green, embossed leather, and I couldn’t see the title. Surely it wasn’t one from the Greenwood Library, for I would recognize it effortlessly. How many of them have I read just for you, my Lord?

Gently taking off the cloth off the tray I revealed a bowl of various fruits, sweet lemon cake and a bottle of finest wine. I saw that his teapot was empty. Arranging the amenities on the table, I avoided his curious look just yet, focusing on my task, for my hands were slightly shaking; I’m sure he hadn’t missed that. Finally I straightened and pressed the empty, silver tray to my hip. The gesture suddenly appeared too maiden-like for me, so I changed the pose. I was far too nervous even for myself, but alas - it was too late to remedy it.

“Thank you,” Elrond spoke. “This is very kind. But I didn’t ask for anything else beside some tea.”

“You didn’t have to, my Lord,” I smiled; Elrond nodded with amusement.

He was informally dressed, in loose, but fine garments, unembroidered and simple – meant for late hours of night, when the main purpose was comfort. He was barefoot, reclining in the wooden armchair and stretching his long, strong legs before him. He was regarding me with sheer curiosity. 

“Is the chamber to your liking, my Lord?” I asked, trying to come up with a question suitable for a mere servant. Elrond’s eyebrow twitched at this obvious try to prolong the conversation.

“It is very comfortable.” He said only. So no help from him, after all. He was forcing me to reveal my purpose. I should have known, he was millennia older, he wouldn’t let a mere child talk him into something inappropriate. I nodded in acknowledgement and sighed very quietly, gathering all the courage left.

“Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” I asked, risking a glance into his beautiful, cloudy grey eyes.

He observed me a while longer than normally.

“I am just fine. I don’t think I need _anything_.” He said, still looking at me with this kindly curious expression tinged with a pinch of amusement. I felt my cheeks going a little red, suspecting that I should back off now tactfully and hide under the blanket in my room, to never shake the shame off. Any more prodding, any more obvious question would undoubtedly be disrespectful, wouldn’t it?... But I just couldn’t…

“I should rephrase my point I think,” I said quietly, every ounce of common sense screaming at this recklessness, but my tongue worked on its own, never listening. “Maybe you are in need of _someone_ , my Lord?”

I bowed, not to look in his eyes. The silence befell us, and he didn’t move for a good while. I felt cold sweat on my forehead; I offended him. I did. 

Finally, after what seemed an enormously long time, he stirred. He put the book away, sat upright in his chair and spared me a long glance. I could almost feel his eyes sliding over my body in scrutiny.

“I really don’t want to offend you, elfling,” he turned to me in a low and calm voice, followed by a sad sigh. “But whoever ordered you to come here…”

“No one ordered me, my Lord!” I said quickly, before I could bite my tongue not to speak. When the realization came a second later, I thought I would faint. I interrupted him. Almost shrinking, for what I had done surely deserved a reprimand, I bowed low again.

Elrond fell silent. 

“You came here out of your own, free will?” He asked. Relief washing over me was like a flood.

“Yes, my Lord,” I answered meekly. After a while of silence, I added only: “I thought I would offer my company, however humble it may be, and please you.”

Elrond sighed again, obviously troubled. For some reason unknown to me he did not throw me out of his room, nor did he scold me for interrupting his rest. He made a move as if he wanted to stand up, but abandoned the idea; sitting where he was, he just glared at me, trying to catch my eye, looking over my body, freshly bathed and clothed in simple household linens. Maybe he found my looks pleasing? Maybe he was tempted…? I stated quite clearly, even if a little bluntly, what I was offering.

I took a breath in and raised my eyes. I saw his grey irises staring directly in mine.

“I heard that there is an unspoken tradition among Woodelves for the King to take consorts… it is not that uncommon among the Noldor, too… but I cannot…” he said slowly, a hint of regret in his voice. He suddenly broke eye contact, searching for anything to hold his interest on the table and selecting the most delicate words to send me away. I gasped, suddenly coming to realize he will forever remember me as a servant, sent like a courtesan to make his stay in Greenwood more pleasurable. I knew what I dared, but I just couldn’t let it go like that.

I knelt in front of him, shyly touching his knee with my hand. He stirred at this, turning his surprised eyes on me at such open gesture of supplication. I endured the stare this time.

“Greenwood’s night is our friend. She hides all and everyone who wishes to remain unrevealed. Merciful walls of this fortress are thick and don’t let any sound slip away unchecked. It is of no one's business whether a king or just a mere servant finds a shard of freedom in the world full of obligations. No one had sent me. I am here for you, my Lord... Because I thought you may need it… And I’m here for myself. There is nothing more to that.” 

“Why have you come…?” Elrond’s voice was a whisper.

“I saw you… in the gardens, my Lord.” I smiled. “You were walking through the misty evening of our August forest and I thought… I knew… you are lonely.”

He glanced at me with endless gratitude. As if working on its own, his hand traveled to my head and tucked a strand of damp, golden hair behind my elegantly pointed ear; the hand stayed there for a moment, trembling delicately, hesitating. I thought I would go mad in no time. I imagined it burying in my hair and arching my neck backwards, so that he could reach and kiss me; a shiver wracked my whole body. I wanted him badly to do this. 

He sighed, biting his lower lip in a very un-royal fashion. Something inside me burst alive with delight, for I knew he was fighting with himself and obviously losing. His face was painfully slowly inching closer to mine; his hand stabilized my head in a convenient position, surprisingly gently, yet it was enough for me as long as he was creeping closer; I saw he wanted to say something. He was desperately searching for words, to assure me that everything will be fine maybe, or express how wrong this was, the forbidden liaison that we initiated, but he found none. I tensed and prayed for him, with every fiber of my body, to close the distance between us in a kiss. He stopped just before our lips met and I thought I would die of need, swaying on my knees before him.

“I will… treasure your gift,” he said, his breath hot on my face, his moving lips barely brushing my parted ones. “Thank you.”

And then Elrond gathered me in his arms, pressing me closely to his chest. He kissed me with fervor I never imagined he would possess, kingly and elegant as he had appeared; I found it even a bit scary, to say the whole truth, but I didn’t back off. He beckoned me to open my mouth wider, so that he could dive inside; his wide palms held onto me desperately, as if I was unreal and could disappear in any moment. 

Abashedly I started to respond. Not exactly knowing what would please him I yielded completely, so that he could prompt me; my own hands, until now paralyzed, awoke and crept closer to his arms, resting there and kneading the muscles, shyly probing the strong line of his scapulas. He huffed in appreciation.

He kept kissing me like starved until I was completely out of breath and made a delicate effort of setting free from his embrace to catch some air. He allowed me and laid his head on my arm, sliding his hands possessively down my back. The exact knowledge of what we were doing finally hit me and I simply couldn’t believe it; I gripped him harder to ascertain myself, similarly to his movement before.

“Rise,” he rasped and pulled me up. I obeyed immediately. “Bolt the door, please.”

Swaying on my feet I turned around and walked to the wooden, sculpted door; I turned the key in a lock and bolted it additionally, making sure no one could disturb us. I listened for a short moment, but no one was walking in the corridor. We were safe and alone.

“Come,” I heard Elrond’s voice. “Pour me some wine.”

I paid attention to the servants during banquets and so I knew how to do it gracefully. I handed my Lord the full crystal glass and smiled at his frivolous expression.

“Why have you brought only one glass?” he asked.

“Because this is for you, my Lord,” I said modestly. He quirked an eyebrow, drank a little and handed the glass to me. Bowing my head in thanks, I accepted. I rarely tasted wine at all; it was not forbidden, yet I was still young and I felt my elders frown upon it. Even so, Lord Elrond wanted to indulge me.

“What is your name?” He asked, painting a lazy trail on my thigh with his finger. 

I couldn’t think out anything reasonable in so short a time. “Legolas,” I said with a dismissive shrug, afraid that I might have given up my tricky plan, but to my surprise Elrond laughed.

“I heard your youngest prince is named so. ‘Green leaf’... The name must have been popular after his birth!” He smiled, reaching for the glass again. I couldn’t help a relieved, nervous laugh.

“Indeed, my Lord,” I said. “I am practically of his age.”

“I see.” Elrond sobered somehow. “So young, so innocent…” he whispered, reaching with his hands to the straps holding the front of my tunic together. “Valar, I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered more to himself than to me, sounding slightly surprised.

“Please do,” I whispered, needy and impatient, going down on my knees again to make my clothes more accessible. 

“You have done this before, haven’t you?” He asked worriedly, searching for my eyes. I nodded. 

It wasn’t a thorough lie, of course. I wouldn’t manage to lie to him straightforwardly. I have done this before with a few fellow warriors, mostly in some hiding places, my partners sworn to secrecy, for _Ada_ wouldn’t ever want to see me lie with a male; I had learned enough to know what to do, but I never let anyone invade me. This I left for him. This would be his to take. So that I could remember this night forever. And I knew there was nothing to be afraid of; Elrond was more gentle than I would imagine, more considerate than any of the Men or Elves I laid with. He had barely touched me, but all he did was breathtaking. I trembled when I thought of what was to come.

My clothes came off with ease; he smiled serenely, noticing quietly that it has been so long since he undressed someone that it actually has an exciting ting of novelty in it. I let him peel off my tunic, delicate like the spider’s web white undershirt, soft leather boots, simple woolen leggings. Searching for allowance in my eyes, he grabbed an edge of my loincloth and pulled, revealing me to his eyes. 

He was just looking at me for a long, long moment.

I almost covered myself with my hands, suddenly discouraged and uneasy, but he stopped me with a quick, forbidding movement. His eyes kept sliding up and down my body until I started to tremble. I tossed a glance in the window direction. 

The rain, patting the glass only delicately before, had become more violent. Now I could predict that the gentle rain will blossom into a real thunderstorm. I started to shiver both from the cool air coming from the slightly opened window and from Elrond’s lancinating stare; even now I cannot say what was more of the cause.

When Elrond’s hand touched me on the stomach, he seemed so warm, so alive, that I shook like a leaf on the wind. He finally rose from his armchair and surrounded me with his protective, warm aura.

“Cold?”

I murmured something inarticulate, but overall admitting.

“We will remedy that.” He smiled and lifted a wide sleeve of his robe to drape it over my back, embracing me with one hand. “You are truly beautiful, Legolas.” He said, looking at my body, pressed flush to his chest; his smile and approving glare meant more than the whole world.

He walked with me, keeping that strategically located hand around my shoulders, leading me to a huge, wooden bed, padded with silken bedsheets and richly embroidered pillows. Even I didn’t have ones like that, so the look of amazement was not difficult to feign. 

He directed me into the bed and quickly shrugged off his outer robe; as he began undressing, I flushed red. I could never have predicted that I would actually turn my face away from what I was seeing; nude Elrond was almost too much. 

Even if he had abandoned the way of a warrior a long time ago, the sculpture of his body was still evident; unbent with age, immortal with glory, he _shone_. He was undoubtedly _different_ from the depictions of him in the paintings or engravings; he couldn’t be as sleek and handsome as when he was younger. But for me, he was astonishing, his half-human heritage easily detected in his wide shoulder frame, in his muscular, powerful build; I looked up abashed, as if I was seeing a deity. These wide planes of pectorals, roughly chiseled outline of a stomach, that pair of muscled thighs, revealed one by one, made me realize that even if I wanted to beg him to spare me now, he would not, for we have crossed the line of long ago. This mighty Lord would use my willowy body in any way he’d want, I realized with some fear I hadn’t felt before, so certain of pure pleasure to come. 

Elrond noticed. Elrond knew. He smirked with some kind of satisfaction at my sudden lack of courage and placed a soothing caress sliding down my arm, as if saying: do not worry. 

Swiftly and purposely he climbed on the bed and covered my body with his. His lips found mine again and his hands started boldly exploring the upper parts of my chest. I felt his fingers probe my collarbone and neck, press the vein there delicately, as if he was taking my pulse. My heart was beating fast and very loud. He nodded with satisfaction again.

Far away thunder and following lightning made the sky momentarily white. 

His lips traveled swiftly; from my mouth they chose a path north, to lick one of my ears and have me squirming. After this unexpected, fierce pleasure Elrond nuzzled my jaw and revealed the left side of my white throat. Licking playfully, he sucked on a carefully chosen spot with a smirk, staying there long enough to leave a mark for everyone to see tomorrow. 

Sudden flash of panic transferred into a sea of obedience when I realized that in his possessiveness he had marked me as his; he felt attracted to me, to the very thing we were doing. Even if it hurt a tiny bit, I enjoyed every one of the cheerful bites he left on my skin, for it meant he cared, for it left me with a palpable proof that this night was not a dream, for… for it was undoing me in a way I couldn’t describe. 

I wanted to participate somehow, to give back some of the pleasure. I had learned how to do that. Yet when I made a move to rise and switch places, so that I could kiss and pleasure him, he fiercely pressed both my hands into the mattress in a wordless order.

“Just let me,” he said only and gave his full attention to my right nipple, sucking on it and biting down gently until it stood hard and reddish like a winterberry. 

I understood he must have been denied this for a longer period of time than I had calculated, and the need to give and to explore thoroughly outweighed receiving pleasure. Allowing the pleasure to appear and run its way to completion could be a more common thing, impersonal even; I knew that much myself. He needed my _trust_ , my reactions, my obedience. He wanted me to allow him to take the initiative. 

I did. It was easier for me this way, of course; but I promised to myself I would give him pleasure too, after he satiated, instead of only staying at the receiving end. 

His hands ran over my flanks and his tongue darted into my navel, when I lost control over my voice for the first time. What he did was so unexpected that I arched up and moaned loudly, cleaving the sheets with both hands. He cherished the sound and delighted in it, for he practically ordered me to do it again. I felt like I couldn’t do anything else. His hands were everywhere, and a slow journey of his mouth from my ankle to my groin was a sweet torture of waiting. I wanted to touch him, but he was out of my reach. I wanted him to touch me more, but he was content with nuzzling the inside of my knee only. 

“Please…” 

He moved closer to my groin, where my elfhood laid heavily on my belly, weeping for attention. He left another bite, a particularly big one, on the inside of my thigh. He smirked at the sound I made.

“Please what?” He asked.

“Oh, you are malicious, my Lord,” I breathed, hiding my face in a pillow. 

He only laughed quietly and abandoned my leg, settling it down on the mattress. He reached for a kiss, which I willingly gave, and was rewarded for. His hand finally touched and fondled delicately with a soft pouch between my thighs. 

I could finally repay the kindness, because he was so close, and yet I couldn’t, for my mind stopped working. I dipped my fingers in his hair, threading his dark mane, stroking down his neck; I was speaking something incoherent, but I cannot remember what I tried to say. Some time later I found that I could reach his shaft with my hand.

That stirred me anew. I opened my eyes and gave my full attention to him, my Lord, my leader, my desired. I was determined to wrap my fingers around the swollen length and stroke up and down; he observed my eyes with a warm smile. He seemed a bit amused.

“Harder, little leaf,” he said. “Like that.”

I couldn’t form my thoughts in a coherent word to scream when he showed me how.

Exhausted, but still needy for the climax, I was abandoned much too early. Elrond returned to lazy exploring and it frustrated me to the core. I frowned in distress; he took pity on me and hummed in contentment at the state I was in. 

“Do you happen to have something to ease the way?” I heard.

I did. I had a phial of oil hidden in a small pocket in my servant tunic. Reaching for the clothes scattered on the floor with one hand, hanging from the side of the bed I grabbed the fabric with the ends of my fingers; finally I produced the phial from the folds of the garment. I handed it to him wordlessly.

He sighed onto my neck, left one last kiss on my cheek and knelt on the bed, putting my knee over his shoulder. He coated his fingers with a generous amount of the scented oil and took a minute to coat himself with the substance first; I could only watch in mute fascination. 

The fireplace shone with dim light, and the fire was slowly dying. The rain whipped the stained glass mercilessly. In this weak, warm light Elrond seemed more beautiful than Kings of Old drawn in the books he liked to read so much.

“Hold still, relax,” he said hoarsely, putting his left hand on my chest to hold me down. I hugged that offered hand close, both in fear and excitement; I closed my eyes in a reflex, trying to wait through the preparation in the safe darkness of my thoughts, but he would not have it this way. “Look at me, little leaf. Open your eyes.”

He found a puckered opening and slowly circled it, until I calmed down and could breathe again. His eyes were dark with desire, and yet he wore a calm, focused expression. When he pushed inside I hissed at the dull, unfamiliar ache, which was smaller than I expected, but nevertheless present; he called me to look at him again. I held into his hand desperately.

I think I betrayed myself in that moment, for he must have understood he was taking my innocence from me, yet he didn’t stop. He added a second finger into my passage, scissoring and spreading me open, and I couldn’t help but twitch at the sensation, not as much from pain, but from the slight shock of something moving inside me. Just when I thought I cannot take it anymore, he stopped and massaged something inside me which completely blacked out any idea of pleasure I had. I surrendered, only begging him to do that again with an undignified whine, and he did, with three solid fingers slipping inside me. 

He gathered my unresisting body and arranged me on his lap, while I still moaned for the loss of contact when he slipped his fingers out of me. Positioning himself carefully, he slowly pushed inside with a hushed, subdued groan and I was suddenly ripped out of my pleasant haze, for Elrond’s shaft was thicker than his fingers felt. I think I gasped louder than I should, for I found myself silenced with a kiss and pressed to the mattress with all the weight of his body. 

Now the pain was greater than I had imagined. I couldn’t even ask him to hold on, to give me some time, for my mouth was claimed. My hands trembled where I laid them on his shoulders and a few tears escaped from the corners of my eyes; but I forced myself to endure, to stay still, just for him, for my Elrond. 

When fully sheathed, he released my mouth and an unwanted sob broke free. He panted heavily over me, trying not to lose himself in the feeling of my fluttering walls around him, and repetitiously stroked my head with the gentlest gesture I could fathom. Yet before I could stop myself and focus on the soothing touch, I covered my face with one hand in a very childish gesture not to reveal my drastic lack of experience. 

“Valar, you are so tight,” he panted. “You will undo me at any time. Shush, little leaf. I will not hurt you... Shush… we will wait… a while…” 

I nodded, hearing exactly what I wanted to hear, I wanted him to wait. We stayed tightly embraced, holding onto each other in the ever growing darkness, out of breath, sweaty. His lips were moving in delicate, shushing sounds, occasionally closing over the soft flesh of my cheek. I held my arms around his neck fiercely, wordlessly telling him all about my shock and bewilderment, my hope that he would give me some time.

The last spark of fire in the chamber fireplace died.

Elrond sighed contentedly, finally regaining his senses. He looked at my slightly damp face with tenderness, then kissed away every teardrop. At the end he kissed me in the mouth and I tasted my own tears, yielding to him once again. 

“I will move now,” he whispered and all I could do was agree to whatever he wished to do to me.

Failing to understand what were the sensations that I felt, I clutched to my Lord and observed his face, allowing it all to happen. He was focused, and yet full of abandon. Throaty sigh escaped him and betrayed his pleasure each time he pushed into me, and though I felt some pain still, I was happy, for I knew I pleased him. Elrond bit down on his lower lip, closing his eyes in bliss, his long black hair falling down on my chest like cascades of precious, silken thread. I figured uncertainly that I should lift my hips, so that he can enter me more; I tried, and he reached with one hand to wrap my leg around his waist. 

That little change of position made the whole thing suddenly pleasurable for me. Now each time he pushed inside me, he touched that little bundle of nerves he had shown me before and I finally understood what so irresistible is in intercourse that the passion and emotion outweighs reason. 

I cannot possibly say how long we went with that erratic, fierce rhythm; he panted in the crook of my neck, repeating my name in a strained whisper. I caught these sounds and marveled at them, kneading his back with both of my hands, feeling closer and closer to saying his name aloud too. When I finally dared, I found it the most beautiful name in the world, and the most wonderful word I ever said in my whole life, similar to the way the first words felt to the Ainur, who created Eternal Music. I think I cried, when I repeated it again, delighted at the interrupted melody of our gasps; and then my Lord shuddered, grunted loud and collapsed on top of me, his hot essence filling my passage.

He laid unmoving, gathering his scattered senses. 

It took him a while. It felt good and honoring to have him so exhausted on top of me, so as much as I still craved for his attention, I withheld. 

As his breath slowly came back to the steady rhythm of deep inhales and exhales, mine was still hitching. As his heart calmed down, mine still raced with no pause. As his eyes turned into cloudy gray again, mine were lined with tears and dilated.

“Oh, little leaf,” he murmured affectionately, taking in the sight of my face. It didn’t take much to make me come, for when he took me in hand and pumped only a few times – blissful couple of times – I stopped seeing anything as a powerful wave of pleasure shook me and I came abundantly, all around his hand and my stomach. 

In a stupor I was floating in, I felt him slipping out of me and I vaguely thought that the bedsheets would stain; Elrond disregarded it completely, acting rather appreciative of the mess I made, while I felt rather embarrassed. He stretched next to me, propping himself up on an elbow; he observed me with a calm, dreamy face as I was resting. Playfully he stroked my length once again, running his fingers through the sticky come on my stomach; the touch made me shudder at the overstimulation. He did it again and again, observing my reactions, until with enormous effort of my heavy, tired body I managed to roll on my side and put my knees together.

“You are a wonder, little leaf,” he murmured, resting his hand on my hip and kissing my closed, fluttering eyelids. “My Legolas. You were… exquisite. For the lack of a better word.”

I understood the praising tone and favorable petting and it made me truly happy. That was what I aimed for. Those words I wished for. When he touched me again, it was with a wet cloth, to wash the remnants of our lovemaking from my body; I felt so tired that to move a single limb was too much, and yet he appeared brisk and full of fervor. The smile on his face was deeper than any I saw before. His Elven light was almost vibrant. I wondered at that – for truly, how long had it been since he was with anyone…?

“Have I exhausted you past endurance, my little leaf?” he smirked.

I only nodded with a lazy smile. One deep breath more and I tried to raise, for I knew very well that his rest should not be further disturbed. He had been heavenly kind, allowing me to stay that long anyway. And he even cleaned me, what should have been my job. 

“My Lord… You have honored me. I should take my leave now... It would not be forgivable to steal any more of your resting hours.” I said, trying to crawl out of bed. I was beginning to feel strange, actually, tired and sore, unnervingly empty; I just wanted to fall asleep, to stop the assault of thoughts that appeared out of nowhere and were not pleasant at all, orbiting around the line of mistakes, loneliness and loss of him yet again. I stood up with some difficulty, grimacing at the soreness, to reach for my leggings and other scattered pieces of clothing. That was when he simply reached to catch my forearms and pull me back onto the mattress.

“You think I want you gone now?” he asked only, embracing me tightly and arranging the covers on top of us. “Elfling, elfling. You should rest now, I think… and wouldn’t you prefer to rest in my arms?”

I was feeling lost. I didn’t know what to say. 

After a while I snuggled closer and let myself to rest near my mighty, admired, beloved Lord. How I wanted to blurt out everything...! My true identity, my feelings towards him, my secret work in both body and spirit just for him to find me pleasing. I wanted him to _know_ , to hold _me_ , not a mere servant I appeared; but I kept it all inside. I discarded my grief, focusing on his heartbeat and his fingers in my hair. 

It was better this way. Let him only realize I am no one. He made no mistake, he disrespected no father, he abused no hospitality. He just found a little shard of freedom and peace. I made him happier. Mere servant or not… it was me. My body he touched, my soul he accepted. We would both cherish this memory. We would both remember this night. 

Valar, may he never know whom he took that night. Let it stay this way… let it stay a beautiful memory, with no threat or shadow of distress. 

“I will… go home to Imladris…” Elrond whispered suddenly. “…and hope The Fate will allow us to meet again, one day. I will be waiting for you, elfling. Little leaf who cared enough to notice and in his infinite kindness make me happy, if only for one night. Thank you, Legolas.”

**~*~**

That night was just like this one. The storm which had finally passed over the wood made windfalls and damage considerable enough to fret, but the roads were not bad enough to delay the departure of Imladris contingent. A noble Lord went back home, hoping for the possibility of the Greenwood child finding his way into his arms again.

I hoped so too. 

Still do, to this very day.

Try to understand, my friend. The only one I decided to tell this story of mine. 


End file.
